


We Want What We Can't Have~

by C_A_T_M



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Animal Death, F/M, Fluff, Force-Feeding, Murder, Oblivious, Parent Death, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Serial Killers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 11:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20309059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_A_T_M/pseuds/C_A_T_M
Summary: If there was one way to describe Junhee, it would be simple. His job, his life, his 'interests'. Yet she was the farthest thing from simple you could ever imagine.





	We Want What We Can't Have~

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a disclaimer, I do not in anyway, believe that Junhee would act in this manner nor do I support this kind of behaviour in real life. Everything in this work is purely fictional and the characters involved are fictional with no reflection to the actual idol.

The metal of the aluminium cans was cold against his heated skin. The temperature of his hands reached equilibrium as he adjusted them for the millionth time. 

Forward; forward; forward; slightly crooked. 

He frowned as he changed it again, breathing a small sigh of relief as everything faced towards him. Everything was orderly.

All you could hear in the store was the sound of his footsteps and the pop song that played. To others the constant repetition was maddening, enough to drive them to their wits end, however to Junhee, it was like the soothing balm on a burn that went right down to the bone. It was calming. 

The echoing of his footsteps were tuned to every beat of the bass that rocked through the convenience shop, his body adjusting to create harmony. He liked to be at peace with himself and his surroundings. 

Nothing was out of place and he could finally breathe easy as he returned to his spot behind the till, his elbow resting on the counter as his head lay in his hand. 

Fingers tapped against his chin, softly hitting the skin as his obsidian hues roamed across every aisle and fridge. He really didn't need to, he'd memorised it all within the first week he was there - it was a force of habit now more than anything. 

Suddenly, the bell jingled to signal a new customer entering. A woman, not too outstanding in any way, was inside the shop. Junhee recognised her right away as a regular and that she'd been coming in at least once a day for the past month or so. 

She was a mousy lady, the kind of person you would forget existed had you not seen them everyday. A forgettable face amongst the bustle of life was what Junhee would describe her as. 

Today she wore nothing exciting, not that she ever did. A simple blue coat frosted with the cold outside hung over her shoulders, paired with boring black work shoes and slacks. However, there was one thing that did attract his attention; the red earphones that dangled from her ears and connected to her phone. 

He watched her weave through the aisles, already knowing exactly what she was going to buy. A pot of instant noodles and a bottle of strawberry flavoured water. While he liked constants, he couldn't help but wish that she would do something different.

Sitting down, he busied himself with fixing the lollipops on display, making it so that each one was equal in height and facing the front. As he moved them, his knee knocked against the counter and with it came the unmistakable sound of a pill bottle rattling, only just audible over the sound of the song playing. Nonetheless, he doubted she had heard a thing. 

She walked over and he glanced at the items. Noodles and water, exactly like he had guessed. 

No words were exchanged, her music loud enough to be heard by him despite the counter between them as he scanned the items. It was a sad song, also something that never changed. Never had he heard anything uplifting coming from the woman's ears. 

His eyes travelled down to the phone, a petite white dog on the case. If he didn't have any other words available to use, he would have called it cute. 

"That will be ₩3,000," Soundlessly, she handed him the money and walked away, not bothering to make even utter thank you - not that he was phased by that. 

Walking away, she sat on the desk and opened up the packet, pouring in some water and staring out of the window. Junhee's fingers twitched, the music in the background getting louder and louder, almost deafening him even though nothing at all had changed. 

Leg bouncing with the strain of keeping quiet, he bit his inner cheek and listened to the sound of the capsules rattling inside the bottle. This was his music, not the soul crushing rubbish the woman always played in her ears.

Nonetheless, even with all the extra effort he'd put in towards distracting himself, he found his attention wandering back to the lady. The chopsticks in her hand were stained orange, her motions slow and dull as she lifted the noodles to her lips. 

Watching her made his mind go into overdrive, unable to understand what it was he was feeling. Junhee wanted to know why she was always so lethargic. Perhaps she needed help?

Continuing to stare, his gaze focused on her reflection until he couldn't handle it anymore. The pop song hit its climax, his heart beating in his ears as his throat went dry. 

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" He spoke and the words echoed off of every corner of the shop, her endless brown eyes portraying a question that her mouth didn't move to verbalise. 

She didn't bother to remove an earbud either.

"Would you like anything else?" Shaking her head, she looked forward again and he sighed, watching the small bone shaped charm on her phone case jingle. 

She didn't need anything then, but he was certain he could assist her anyway. 

However, there was always an equal and opposite reaction for every action. First he needed her help before could return the favour, which was why he asked her to help him to save the 'small, cute puppy' that was trapped and injured a few days later, she was quick to offer her aid..

The darkness of the night obscured them both, the artificial gold of the lamp posts bathing the streets in a heavenly glow. 

The woman bent down, removing the wire that somehow managed to wrap itself around the poor thing. There was no music in her ears, nothing but the sound of the canine's heartbeat as she held it close, smoothing its blindingly white fur with a gentle caress. 

"You're very good with dogs, he looks happy to be saved," He said, squatting down beside her.

"Yes, he's beautiful," She responded and he smiled.

She was caring, whispering praises into its ear as it's whimpering died down - no longer scared and terrified. 

Unfortunately, she did not feel the same way. A plastic bag found it's way over her head, suffocating her as hands wrapped around her throat. 

He was helping her. She so obviously wasn't happy with the world around her, so wasn't he doing her a favour by helping her leave? 

At least, that's what he told himself when he dropped the body off into an alleyway, wrapped securely in plastic and cardboard - a petite red coloured ribbon secured neatly around the middle. 

The store lights seemed especially bright today, nearly blinding him as he sat behind the till and fiddled with the cuff of his uniform. There was a loose thread and it was driving him crazy, his brows furrowed as he picked at it.

He barely noticed the bell jingle because of how preoccupied he was, only looking up for a split second to see a woman disappear into an aisle. Honestly, he wasn't really bothered anymore about who came in and out. 

Continuing to pick at the thread, he chewed on his cheek nervously. Was there any scissors around? He couldn't see anything that could help him cut it off.

Only when the soft, dull sound of something hitting the counter reached his ears, did he return back to reality and tilt his head upwards.

She stood there, smiling gently at him as he made eye contact. "Hi."

If there was ever a moment where he had completely gone stupid, it would have been then. Not used to being greeted, or even acknowledged, he stuttered out a small 'hello', earning an even bigger simper from her. 

The items she had were different, no noodles nor water in sight. Instead there was strawberry milk and a packet of crisps; he'd never eaten either one. 

Swallowing, he looked at the till. "₩2530, please."

The small wallet she produced was simplistic yet colourful, stripes of yellow and baby blue decorated the fabric along with a golden clasp to top it off. 

As she rummaged around for change, wanting to give an exact amount, he realised that she also had earphones in. Though, they weren't in her ears and were simply hanging. The volume of the song wasn't very loud but if he strained, he could faintly hear the upbeat and peppy music coming from it. 

Finally, she found all the money needed and handed it to him with another soft smile, gathering her items in her hands. "Thank you, Junhee-ssi."

His eyes rounded, wide with wonder and shock ad his name fell from her upturned lips. How long had it been since he had heard it come from someone else other than his mother? Unable to do anything more than silently nod, Junhee observed as she tucked the strawberry milk into her pocket and sat down at the desk.

Thoughts rushed through his head at a thousand miles per hour, not a single cohesive statement could be made out from the jumble in his mind apart from one; she treated him like a person. 

Junhee was the background character and he liked to play that part. It was simple and it was easy. No one bothered him and him them. And when that position he had added himself was shattered, albeit unintentionally, he was nothing short of flustered. 

Heart pounding against his chest, his leg bounced and with it - the pills. Familiar rattling eased his nerves the slightest amount, the thread forgotten as her reflection required every inch of his attention. 

The longer he watched, the more he was able to discern her features and notice what he had been too preoccupied to see earlier. She was pretty, he could recognise that much, youth filling out her features and bringing a glow to her face. 

She was quiet but not dead silent, her humming barely heard but it was comforting. Junhee much preferred it over the obnoxious break up song that was playing over the speakers. 

Even if she wore all black, there were splashes of colour spread all over her attire. From the red and white unbranded backpack that hung off her shoulders, to the golden chains hanging off of her trouser pockets, there was something that was new and fresh to look at. 

Around five or so minutes passed, the packet crumpling before hitting the bin as she stood up. 

"Bye," She said upon catching his eye (that hadn't really left), "have a good day." 

Wiping his sweaty palm on his trousers, he nodded and waved back, only letting it fall when she left and the bell jingled once more. 

He wouldn't mind seeing her again. 

* * *

The next time she came in, he was busy in the back organising the extra food and the boxes that were empty and needed to be thrown out. When he had heard that someone entered, he made his way back out and squinted at the bright, fluorescent lights that flooded his vision. 

She wore cute clips in her hair, glittering and glinting with her every movement. They were yellow and black respectively, matching with her clothing that had neon yellow english writing on the black background. 'Life ends but my legacy won't,' it read.

Her eyes met his and she was the first to smile, prompting him to return with his own poor attempt. Honestly, it probably resembled more of a grimace than a proper grin. 

In her hands were the same thing as last time; a packet of crisps and strawberry milk. 

"Hi," She spoke and he was glad that he mentally prepared himself for this conversation.

"Hi," He replied simply, taking a hold of her items, "is this all?"

Nodding, she shuffled in place and her clips shone even more. "Mhm."

"That will be ₩2530," She was quick to hand the money, more than likely because she'd already had it ready. For a split second her hand grazed against his and he barely held back his gasp, his skin tingling from the contact as his fingers curled tightly around the cash. 

"Thank you, Junhee-ssi," She echoed, taking her items and moving to the desk. This time she put her crisps in her pocket and opened up the milk, discarding the silver foil into the bin. 

Junhee wasn't really surprised that she was back, more so startled that she had spoken to him again. Having small talk with other people was so foreign, his brain short circuiting as he peered at her from the corner of his eye. 

Today her gaze was a little softer as she watched the world outside, the night beginning to fall and consequently covering the streets in a dusty pink and orange haze. Trees danced ever so slightly in the calm breeze, birds chirping and dancing in their branches. It wasn't hard to understand why she was happy. 

"Isn't it pretty?" Heart jumping into his throat, he realised that she had turned her head to him, "this is my favourite time of day."

With no idea of what to respond, Junhee nodded and she turned back to the window. He could only curse himself for his lack of conversational skills. 

"Do you like your job?" Pale pink milk coated her lips for a split second before she licked it away, making eye contact through a pane of glass. 

"….It's okay," He didn't particularly have any feelings towards his job, mostly neutral. If he got money for doing basically nothing other than the occasional scanning, why would he complain?

She laughed and his ears perked at the sound no matter how brief it was. He wished he could have heard it again as it was far more melodic than the song playing in the shop. "Do you do most of the organising?"

At his affirmative 'yes', she leant back in the chair and took another gulp of the milk. "You have a nice eye for detail."

He could feel his cheeks begin to burn hot, unused to the casual compliment that had been given. All his life, Junhee had been laughed at for his incessant need for order; be it small jests from his coworkers or the yells that haunted his sleep, he had never even heard a positive word uttered about his details. 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The conversation fell short even if his mind did not, his face still burning and his entire being flustered beyond belief. Silence was his best friend yet now seemed like his foe.

Slowly, she stood up and discarded her rubbish, waving one last time and disappearing through the door with only tingling to remind her of her existence. 

* * *

His home was nothing entertaining nor groundbreaking, a simple enough two bedroomed place that housed him and gave him a roof over his head. This was the only home he knew, that he had. 

Happy and joyful strums of music played in the background, the volume on low as he sat cross legged in his bedroom. Under him lay a soft futon, worn and well used. He could afford to replace it but he didn't, why should he when his mother gave it to him all those years ago?

Window slightly open, the cool breeze hit his face and made him sigh, too lazy to get up and close it. Instead, he let his fingers skim over the small showcase that the radio sat on top of, the entire thing filled from end to start with books. 

Paperback, hardback and leather all felt different under the pads of his fingers, digits curling as he hovered over one specific book; a notebook to be exact. 

Junhee remembered spending hours feverishly writing in it, hiding away in the bathroom as he used a blunt pencil to scribble down whatever was in his head. He would describe it as therapeutic now. 

Tattered and frayed at the edges, his hold was loose despite being firm, not wanting to ruin the pages anymore than aging already had. When was the last time he had even looked at it, let alone wrote in it?

Slowly, the front cover was turned over and he squinted at his messy scrawl, unable to decipher much other than a simple 'I feel sick.'

Flipping through the pages sucked him back into the past, his childhood coming back to life as he read whatever he could make out. Had he not learnt self restraint over the years, he surely would have thrown it into a pit of fire and wanted it burn.

As he neared the middle, he paused and stared. A crude drawing of a dog was printed in the centre of the page, a dopey smile on the daubings visage - it was wholly pure in it's intentions.

In spite of this, his hands still trembled and his bottom lip still shook, inhales deep as he glared hard at the dog on the paper. 

His mother's hands were warm, scalding even as they cupped his cheeks, her face near his as she cooed at both him and the fragile puppy in his ears. The image presented itself as wholesome to an outsider, nonetheless, he could clearly remember how her blunt nails dug into his skin, her pupils shaky as a void stared at him. 

He remembered how he held the animal tight to his chest, tears sticky on his cheeks as his mouth was forced open, food shoved down his throat and into his unwilling stomach. 

"You need to eat, Junhee-ah. If you don't eat, then how can you have the energy to feed your cute pet?" Honey words dripped with venom, hand clasped tightly around his head as he was forced to decide between swallowing or suffocating. "Good boy," she would chant, "good boy, good boy, good boy."

He chose swallowing every time, knowing that he would only end up in the bathroom with his hands firmly on the toilet rim as he heaved back his mother's love. 

Of course, his mother knew all, always aware of what he was doing. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised when he came home the next day and found his beloved friend with wire around its neck, head covered in a plastic bag and body dumped just behind the overflowing bins. Expected yes, but it didn't hurt any less. 

The notebook slammed shut, tossed far away from his body as he panted, air too thin and oxygen minimal. 

Fuck the book. Fuck everything. Was it too much to want to escape?

Water dripped down his chin as he trembled, the familiar sounds of rattling capsules filling the quiet space - the song long finished - and his mouth as he swallowed two.

Red rimmed his eyes, bloodshot and humiliating as he rubbed them frantically, wiping away frantically at the salty trails that stained his skin. Stumbling upwards, he pulled on the nearest coat he could find and left his house, the door swinging as he slammed it shut. 

Only judging by the darkness of the sky, he assumed it to be around 9pm. Stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, the moon's light drowned out by the yellow of the lampposts. 

While inside his house, the window had seemed less bitter and cold. Now that he was outside, it was the complete opposite, biting at his cheeks and making him wish he picked a thicker coat. 

The alleyways were a place he knew well, growing up in and around them meant that he could navigate them like the back of his hand. Wandering aimlessly, the gravel under his feet crunched and he exhaled, breath forming little clouds that soon dissipated. 

He walked and walked, mind numb and heart frozen over. Only when he stopped to look up, a large pole in front of him, did he realise where he had subconsciously headed towards.

Bright lights came from the shop, one of his coworkers busy at the till. His lips parted and he exhaled, sitting down on the steps outside. How sad that his life revolved around only two things: work and home.

His head was tilted downwards, hood falling down and leaving him exposed to the air that nipped at the back of his neck. Goosebumps rose along his skin but he couldn't have cared less. 

Pathetic, he thought, that he could help others but not himself. 

The door opened behind him and he heard a quiet gasp, shoes scuffling behind him as a curse left the person's lips. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I nearly kicked you," He wondered why on earth they were apologising if they hadn't even hit him before his eyes widened and he looked up, recognising the voice. 

Endless brown pools met the stars, her head slightly tilted as she regarded him. "Junhee-ssi? What are you doing here? Isn't your shift over?"

Not saying a word, he only continued to make eye contact. Her lips pursed for a moment, debating what to do before he slowly sat down beside him, leaving some room between them so he wouldn't feel suffocated. 

"I needed to clear my head," Words croaky as a result of his dry throat, he felt embarrassment wash through his at incredible speeds. Thankfully, the cloak of night masked his cheeks and stopped him from feeling further shame at being exposed. 

She was timid, hesitant to say anything more, so instead she looked upwards at the sky while cleaning back on her arms. "Would you like to talk about it?" 

Silence fell between the two and he pondered over whether or not he should say anything or if he should clamp his mouth shut like he always did. Having someone show concern was enough to have his brain melting, mouth moving with no voice coming out. 

"I know we're both strangers and the most we've said to each other is pleasantries, but I'm willing to listen," He heard her inhale quietly, "a pretty face like yours deserves to have a smile."

Normally he would have cringed at such a line, either grimacing or ducking away from mortification. However, he felt neither when she had it, instead he felt… Flattered. Perhaps it was because he thought she was easy on the eyes also or because she had taken the time to try to speak to him before that made him appreciate the gesture.

Nonetheless, he had a question that was burning and itching at him, his worries momentarily forgotten as he spoke. "Why are you so nice to me?"

She was the opposite of him in many ways and it constantly baffled him as to why she would even bother with someone like himself. Colours brightened and accentuated the room whenever she walked in, while he made everything turn into a dull monochrome. She carried an aura of calm and tranquility, he carried around anxiety and a warning. 

It was not hard to understand why he was so perplexed.

Her head turned to him, listening to his voice before she responded, allowing a beautiful smile to tug across her lips. No matter how many times he saw it, he never grew tired. 

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked and he fiddled with his fingers. 

"I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves kindness. You aren't an exception, Junhee-ssi," Tears welled in his eyes again against his own will, lump in his throat thickening. 

Did he really deserve kindness? Was he worthy of anything more than a disgusted glance or a blank look? 

There was a rustling at his side and he looked at her through the corner of his eye. A sweet was pulled out of her bag, a paper wrapper covering it and twisting prettily at both ends. "Would you like one? It's toffee, sweet things always cheer me up."

Though he didn't say anything, he let his hand open and his heart pounded loudly in his ears as she dropped it off. The toffee was warm more than likely as a result of being on her person for so long - it was comforting in a way. 

Pliant and malleable under his touch, his fingers curled into a fist and the sweet deformed from it's circular shape. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"If I help others, will it help me?" Quiet blanked them both and he worried that he has chased her away with his odd question, his movement frantic as he turned towards her. His worries were soothed instantly when he saw her still sat there thinking.

"It depends really, on both you and the people. If aiding others brings you joy, maybe it will help. Though, helping yourself is the one that will most likely give you the best results, if that's what you're looking for," She added, looking him up and down even if he wasn't lifting his head. 

If he could help himself, it would being him happiness - something easier said than done. His entire life had been spent trying to help himself and rid himself of the nightmare that clung to him like a second skin. By now, it seemed like a far off fantasy rather than feasible goal.

"…Thank you," Her hand on her shoulder felt like it was burning through the fabric of his coat, gently yet containing the pressure of a million unspoken exchanges. 

A shiver ran down his spine, skin tingling.

"I hope I helped even if it was a little bit," Gold from the heavens above painted her in an ethereal light, nearly forcing him to tear his eyes away or risk being blinded. "You're strong, Junhee-ssi. I'm willing you on."

Her head dipped in a goodbye, bag slung over one shoulder and earphones hanging over the other. "I'll see you later." 

"Yeah," he said long after she had walked away, the moon his sole witness, "me too."

* * *

For weeks after that impromptu meeting, she had come in everyday whereas before she came in maybe once or twice a week. He had learnt her name after she mentioned it casually one time and he thought it was the single nicest thing to ever fall off his tongue, his lips pursed prettily every time he whispered it to himself. 

Little stories were always exchanged, mostly as she talked about her day or something random that she had done. His most favourite story was the one about the group of cats that she had pet, likening him to the one with black fur and white paws saying he was 'cute with a touch of heaven underfoot.'

However, his shift was almost ending and she hadn't come at all. The entire day he had his eyes glued to the glass door, willing her to walk in at any moment and tell him another small tale with the intention of making his day brighter. 

His leg bounced nervously, his shift ending in ten minutes. It would disappoint him immensely if he didn't see hair nor hide of her.

Junhee looked over the aisles once more, pleased that everything was normal and organised. (Of course it was, how could it not be when that was all he could occupy himself with?)

The only thing of any significance that had happened was that man had come in, ears full and sad music drifting towards him as he scanned his items. He had half a mind to ask him why so many people liked to listen to such sombre things, his fingers flexing and tightening around his things before he had left. 

Two more minutes ticked past and he resigned himself to his fate, getting up and just about to head into the backroom to change into his normal clothes when the door opened hurriedly.

"Sorry I'm late today, Junhee," He paused, turning around and spotted her rushing towards him. Her clothes were slightly messy, wrinkled most likely from the wind that blew roughly outside. 

Blinking rapidly, she stopped just in front of the counter and produced a single thornless red rose.

"This is for you," Her lips were parted to allow for the subtle panting from her rushing. "I had to leave work a little later and I got lost some time by getting you this too."

"Oh," He said, the stem fragile in between his fingers as he held it with his heart fit to burst, "thank you."

She nodded, fingers drumming on her thigh. "Junhee?" 

He blinked at her, question clear in his eyes.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" His vision tunneled and suddenly all he could see was her figure. Her eyes were filled with hope, bottom lip bitten as she chewed on it nervously. 

His throat was dry, the flower in his hold suddenly feeling like it was made out of lead. Something brewed in his chest and he could barely identify it, and he wouldn't have been able to had the embodiment of it no been in front of him; he felt happy.

"Y-yes," He would have said yes a million times if he could see her smile like that again, the world around him paling in comparison to the way her cheeks lifted and her lips curled into a grin. "My shift ends now."

Rocking on the heels of her feet, she reached over the counter and gently took the rose, tuck in it behind his ear moments later. "That's great. How does ice cream sound?"

"It sounds good, I'll be one minute while I change," She nodded and made her way over to the desk, sitting down and going on her phone. For a moment he stood stock still, letting himself feel the weight of the flower placed behind his ear and his hair. 

Almost robotically, he went into the backroom and began changing, barely aware of his actions as the exchange repeated in his head like a broken record. She liked him. She liked him. _She liked him._

A sudden flood of emotion overwhelmed him, his breathing turning rapid as he tugged on his shirt. Someone was actually paying attention to him, they cared about him enough to want to be with him.

The clothing was stuffed in the bag and he walked out, gingerly stroking the silky red petals. His coworker brushed past him with a polite nod. 

"Are you done, Junhee?" She asked and he hummed positively, letting her walk up to him. "Can I-?" Warm skin brushed against his own and jolts of electricity raced up his spine, rendering him mute.

His fingers stretched, brushing against hers and she took the initiative, slipping her hand into his. If she felt adversely about his slightly sweaty palms, she didn't vocalise it or give away her distaste.

"Tell me about yourself, I would love to know some more about you."

"I'm not very interesting," Tightening her hold on his hand, she swung them gently. 

"Of course you are, what music do you like?" He glanced towards her phone that peeked out of her front pocket. 

"I like everything but sad music," Following his line of vision, she slowly put in her earphones and handed him one, fondly brushing hair away from his face with such tenderness that he could feel himself freeze. 

"Neither do I," And the conversation from them on flowed slowly but naturally. All he said bounced off her easily, her demeanour easy going and almost frustratingly bright. 

Words he normally kept to himself were spilled, the rattling against his leg forgotten and his chest light. It was mind blowing to think that someone so different to himself was the one who was most in tune with him. 

Everything about her was simple yet endlessly exciting. Whether it be her sense of humour or ability to be patient with him, he felt like he could breath easily around her. 

"Is there any specific flavour you want?" He glanced at the range of available ones and his head swam, not knowing anything about any of them. He knew what ice cream was but never had he actually had any - his mother forbade him from eating anything other than her cooking and he never had any opportunity otherwise to try the cold treat.

"I've never had ice cream, can you pick one for me?" Not an ounce of judgment was on her face.

"Maybe vanilla? We can try other ones later."

She returned with her own cone and one for him, topped with an overabundance of sprinkles. "I hope you like sweet things," the small jest made him beam, cheeks beginning to hurt from just how much he had been smiling. 

His first lick was tentative, a test to see whether or not he liked it. Vanilla and sweetness coated his taste buds, a 'whoa' leaving his lips before he could stop himself. Pink flushed across his cheeks at his slip up, though he needn't have bothered being embarrassed. 

"You're so cute," She giggled and his insides melted much like the icecream in his hold. 

"You are too."

* * *

The aroma of homemade cooking wafted throughout his home, the small place bustling with life that it had never known as pots clanged and the sound of dishes being washed punctuated the air.

"You don't have to wash the dishes," Junhee moved, placing his hands on her wet ones and pushing them away, making a show of ignoring her pout. 

"I want to," Her whines melted into the bubbling noises of the food, attention drawn to the broth that was threatening to spill over. 

Water wet his sleeves, soaking them as they unravelled during his ministrations. Suds coated the surface of the sink and the plates, rainbows reflected in their transparent surface along with the distorted reflection of his surroundings. 

Thousands of little soapy bubbles showed everything around him. He could see her body as she moved around, stirring the pot with the utmost care. If he tilted a little to the left, he could see the living room and the big cupboard in the hallway. A little to the right and the cardboard was visible, red ribbon tucked behind it and away from view. 

"I think it's done. Can you give me two bowls, please?" Drying two china bowls, he handed it over. 

The broth was thin, various vegetables and meats scooped into the bowl, filled deliciously to the top and a small garnish placed on top. 

"Shall I get the rice?" 

"Yeah," Fluffy and peaked, his hand paused for a moment as he scooped the rice onto a separate plate, taking it over to the small table in his bedroom where she had already set up the utensils. "Come sit "

He sat where she was patting, sitting beside her and closest to the window that overlooked the neighbours house. There was nothing that was too beautiful about the surroundings, though that hardly mattered when the epitome of beauty was sat in the same room as him. 

Weeks had gone past before he could finally say that he was comfortable and even more time escaped by him by the time he could understand what brewed in his chest.

Blowing on the contents of his spoon, the steam rose and dispersed into the air. Things he could control were things he liked best, with little exception to this.

The flavour hit his tongue and he sighed, swallowing it down despite the heat still retained. He could control how hot or how cold his food was. 

"I think I overcooked the rice a little," Between her chopsticks were grain of sticky rice, his appetite leaving him, "could you try it for me?"

He wanted to shake his head; to tell her that no, he couldn't stomach rice because every time he closed his eyes, he could remember it sticking to his throat as he was forced to swallow it down. His mother's face flashed in his mind and he jerked away, surprisingly her a little. 

"No."

"Oh, that's okay," She wasn't hurt at all by the rejection but guilt ate away at him anyway, to the point where his hand shot out to grab her wrist and halt her.

"I-i can try," Never one to pry, she rerouted her destination and carefully waited for him to open his mouth, letting him take his time. 

The woman in front of him was not his mother, he reminded himself, she was nothing like his mother. 

Rice touched his lips and he parted his lips, letting the chopsticks pass them and drop off the food before moving away. He was in complete control of the food in his mouth, no hands wrapped around his head nor thinly veiled threats. 

All he got was a tilt of the head, her cheeks puffed with food. 

"No," He responded, chewing slowly and gulping, the food settling in his belly, "it's not overcooked."

"Thank god, I thought I messed up then," At this, he couldn't help but laugh. When had she ever messed up a single thing? All he had ever seen her do was correct, whether it be morally or physically. 

"You never mess anything up, you're too good," Junhee stated and she gave him a funny look, patting his thigh. 

"I'm not superhuman, baby. I need help sometimes," Gaze falling on the radio and subsequently, the bookshelf, she pointed towards them. "Which one is your favourite?"

"Milk and honey," The themes in the poems were ones he found himself thinking about often, pondering over the meaning and what the meant to both him and others. "Have you ever read it?"

"No, but I will now that you said it's your favourite," Innocence radiated off of her, the kind that he could only wish that he'd experience. 

The clock ticked, each second bleeding past him until the night was shining through the windows and decorating the floorboards. Her head was buried in the poems, lips forming each and every word until he broke the tranquility with an accidental cough. Looking up at the clock, she sat up on to her knees and tucked away the book back into its place. 

"Oh, I should go home now, it's getting late," Unable to stand the thought of being alone for another night in a row, he vocalised his desires. 

"Stay? For tonight, I don't want you to leave," Junhee was so unbelievably lucky that she agreed without hesitation, not the slightest bit bothered that she didn't plan for this. 

"Okay," She had breathed and that was all he needed, his bed no longer as cold and as empty as it always had been. 

His head rested on her chest, heartbeat thrumming in his ears and playing a symphony that only he would hear. Her eyes were closed, arms wrapped around his body as he lay awake, though this time it was by choice. 

Warmth that knew not his name was now real, seeping into his skin and reaching even the coldest crevices of his being. Soft breathing tickled his neck, her hand resting in his hair as legs tangled around his. 

Things that seemed implausible were now as real as the salty water that dribbled down his cheeks in spite of his closed eyes, heart singing words that his lips were too frail to say.

Despite wanting to help others, he was the one that was being guided with nothing more than encouragement and compassion. How was he to know that those things existed beyond his imagination when he had never known either until her?

Her lips were soft, pressed to his temples as she murmured in her sleep. 

"I love you," She said, her hold around him tightening, "I love you, Junhee."

His tears dried on his cheek that night. 

* * *

Water doused him, soaking him to the bone as the liquid passed through his clothing and into his skin. Hair covered his vision, too weak to lift up his limbs and brush them away as the shower overhead continued to run - freezing cold water pouring down. 

"HOW COULD YOU?!" His mother screamed, hands grabbing his arms as she shook him like a ragdoll, "YOU'RE MINE! NOT YOUR FATHER'S!" 

The yells echoed in his arms, the skin where she was digging into was now smarting, throbbing dully with pain. His throat ached, raw and broken as he backed up against the bathroom wall, arms curling around his knees to draw himself into a ball. 

"HE DID THIS TO ME!" She shrieked, hands moving to grab his face, angry breaths hitting him, "and you want to go back to him? You don't want to stay with your loving eomma?" 

His brain rattled inside his skull, pain blossoming in his temples as his phone rang incessantly, thought it only blended in with the memories that had taken over. 

"YOU PICKED THAT BASTARD OVER EOMMA?!" His head was slammed against the wall, losing all sense of stability as his surroundings blurred and blended together, cold fingers trying to hold onto anything for a sense of comfort. 

He found nothing.

In his delirium, he wasn't aware that the door had opened, a gasp rendered unheard because of the water that gushed endlessly. The cold stopped cascading down on him and hands cupped his face, his first instinct to beg and kick, to survive and get away. 

"Junhee," The hold was delicate, no malicious intent behind it, "Jun, baby, you're okay. You're safe, I promise you," Head resting against a dry chest, the familiar heartbeat calmed his own down, snapping him out of his stupour long enough to recognise his girlfriend. "You're fine. Let's get you out of here."

"Eomma, sh-she's going to-" A warm towel was brought over his shoulders, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks as she stared into his watery brown hues. 

"She's not going to do anything, it's just me," He shook his head, refusing to listen to her and instead pointing to the cupboard in the hallway with unmistakable terror in his eyes.

"There! She's going to come for me, Eomma-" Borderline hysterical, she had no option but to get up and walk over to the cupboard, the storage unit almost reaching the ceiling with how imposing it was. 

She held the handles, tugging them open for a split second and gesturing to the black interior. "Look, baby, nothing there. Eomma isn't here."

"She's not?" He asked and she shook her head. 

"No one."

That calmed him down considerably, finally allowing her to hold him properly to dry his hair, the droplets making their way down his face and soaked clothing. "You're safe."

A towel patted over him, body limp as he let her do as she pleased, his gaze hazy as his bottom lip trembled. "I hate her," He said, finally allowing himself to accept the truth. 

What he felt for his mother was not love. Maybe once it had been but not there was nothing left except resentment. 

"I hate Eomma. She never loved me," Tears replaced the water that fell from his hair, staining her shirt as she cradled him, trying to wipe away the heartache that bled through him.

"It's okay, baby. You're not defined by her, it's alright," No matter how hard he tried to stop crying, it wouldn't work. 

"Really?" 

"Really."

A silence fell, nothing more than their breathing heard as she rocked them both back and forth, arms secured around his figure. 

However, her attention was divided - half on him and the other half on the cupboard that was now slightly open.

* * *

The doorway was cold, his shoulder pressed against it as he stared at her back. She was facing the window of his bedroom, her focus on the world outside as she attempted to ignore everything that was happening inside. 

"One more body discovered, wrapped in cardboard and plastic-" His ears picked up on the radio and his heart dropped.

"Junhee, what do you do when you're sad?" Her question wasn't anything groundbreaking and neither was it invasive. Nonetheless, it still struck him deeper than anything else she had ever asked him, exposing him and making him feel like he was naked in a room full of strangers.

It was her tone that ripped into his chest the most, almost defeated and no trace of the happiness he had grown to adore. 

"Tell me, what do I do when everything I know is falling in on itself?" 

He didn't reply because he didn't know what to say, instead slowly walking towards her. He sat down behind her and he thanked everyone god he knew that she didn't flinch away. 

She didn't turn around, instead reaching for his hand and pulling it towards her, playing with his fingers while still refusing to look over her shoulder at him. 

"Your eomma…" Trailing off, he knew instantly what she was asking. 

"No."

He had never touched his mother. She was the one thing he refused to touch anymore than need be. 

"I believe you," Unable to muster up the energy to be upset, he could feel his chest burn when she finally turned around. There was still love present, the same passion he had seen so long ago, though now it was tinged with disappointment.

That cut deeper than anything else could have.

"Junhee, I can't help you."

"But you are!" He protested, voice meek as he felt wetness hit his hand, her head bowed. "You are."

Her words were whispers but they might as well have been yelled from the top of her lungs. 

"I wish I could believe that, I really do."

* * *

When Junhee send that message to her phone, he knew that she would ignore and come running anyway - it was just something completely in character for her and he could hardly blame her for it. 

The front door burst open and he closed his eyes, expecting to be pulled to the ground but instead he felt arms around him, squeezing him as tightly as they could.

"You came anyway, what did I tell you?" He teased, smiling as she shook in his arms, water spilling from her eyes. Even while disheveled and clearly unprepared, she looked at the picture of an angel and he stared long and hard in order to memorise every feature. 

"Jun-" A finger was pressed to her lips, a kiss stolen shortly after as he cut her off with a shake of his head. It was his decision and his decision only. 

Pecks were peppered across her face, his breathing quickened as he poured everything he had into them. Every emotion, every memory, was brought out in the way he held her close, savouring what he could have before he would never have it again. 

"What's going on?" Junhee refused to answer her, the sounds of sirens nearing until he knew they were just outside and ready to come in.

"I love you. I love you so much. You will never know how much I treasure you. You're the first and last person who I will ever love," Her lips parted to reply but they were never said, cut off and forgotten as yells for him to 'get down' and 'step away' rang in his ears.

Guns were pointed at him, his hands up as she was pulled away and restrained by another detective. His only regret was not hearing her voice once more. 

His eyes never left her for a moment, not even as he was put into handcuffs and put into the back of the police car. He didn't shed a single tear, instead using his moment of clarity to find her in the crowd once more. 

"I love you, please never doubt that," He mouthed and the last thing he saw of her was her fall to her knees, the detective looking at her with a mixture of pity and sympathy in their eyes. 

Junhee was the man who hated sad songs. Junhee was the man who 'helped' others. Junhee was the man who, despite it all, finally experienced love.


End file.
